A Very Unlikely Monster Hunting Team
by Taylor Dresden
Summary: Hunters Peter and Kate find a routine case in Columbus, Ohio, but not everything is what is seems, and not everyone is who they seem.


Fanfiction: A Very Unlikely Monster Hunting Team

Dark. It was dark. I wasn't sure where I was, I wasn't sure what time it was, all I was aware of was the rough burlap of the hood I was wearing and the vague tingling of my hands tied by rope behind my back. Well, that, and I was hungry. And thirsty. So much so that I couldn't really tell the difference, all I knew was that I needed to eat or drink _something._

Time passed. It was still dark. Where was Kate? I felt groggy, like I had been hit over the head and fell asleep for a long time. That's probably what happened actually. I can't really remember what happened. But I did know I was hungry. And thirsty. It occurred to me that I was laying on the floor. It also occurred to me that I didn't care enough to fix that. However it might make it easier to get out of this bag and get some food. Or a drink. That was enough impetus to get me up. Sitting up brought to my attention that I had the biggest headache of my life. So I was definitely hit over the head.

Somewhere nearby, there was the sound of a rusted door opening on squeaky hinges to the grunting of a man. The throbbing of my head didn't allow for any clear thought and instead I focused on the fact that I was really hungry. And thirsty. A hand appeared on my head and tugged the burlap off. The sunlight from a window high on the wall hit my eyes and I turned my head away from the glare. A hand grabbed my jaw and roughly opened my mouth. I felt a tube of plastic on my tongue and some sort of thick liquid spurted out of the end. Despite the unpleasantness, it actually tasted rather good. And it helped with the thirst, anyway.

*A Week Earlier*

My name is Peter. I am a hunter—and no, not a hunter of deer, or duck, or squirrel. My game is a little bit bigger than that. And I am about to give you the talk, so sit down and pay attention. Every story you've ever heard—every monster, boogey-man, or spook that goes bump in the night—is true. Those things you thought you saw out of the corner of your eye walking down dark streets, the flash in the mirror of your car window, the tapping on your window, all the things that you assumed were harmless tricks of the mind, were probably something that could eat you for dinner, and be plenty happy about it. But, like most people, you've convinced yourself you were wrong, and you've been lucky enough to believe that. Until now. It's time to wake up.

My partner Kate and I are hunters. We are responsible for keeping you ignorant, and more importantly, safe. We are the reason you get to believe your bed time stories are just stories, and we do it all at the cost of everything. This is my story, just one of hundreds of others. So sit back, close the blinds, and try not to get too paranoid when the mailman delivers your bills. This story starts a long time ago, but I'll start in the middle of a hunt—give you some context.

"Hey, I think I got something," Kate chimed in from across the table. I looked up from the pile of newspapers I was glancing through. She turned the computer to face me, and the article on the screen was of an old hotel, titled "Hotel faces closure after three die in four weeks." I scanned the article as Kate continued speaking. "Three people died recently at this hotel—all seemingly accidents, all falling down different flights of stairs. The police seem to think that someone has been pushing them, but there has been no reports of any theft, and the victims are unrelated as far as the police can tell, so that limits any typical human motive. However, the hotel has been supposedly haunted for years, _and _the original owner died there a little over forty years ago—when someone pushed him down the stairs."

I looked up from the screen. "Well it doesn't get more textbook poltergeist than that. Where is this place?"

She glanced at the screen and said "Not too far outside Columbus."

"Ohio?"

She nodded.

"Let's head out then."

The drive was long and uneventful, but we were rewarded at the end with a motel that was, for once, clean as well as cheap. Plopping on the bed like I was sixteen again, I sighed at the ceiling. The bed wasn't terribly comfortable. Of course. Kate, graceful as ever, sat on the bed with a defeated disdain one only acquires after being disappointed time and time again. "So tomorrow, we head out to the hotel and see if we can get any EMFs, talk to the owner, see if anyone saw anything. If we find anything, I'd be willing to bet that the ghost is the original owner—what'd you say his name was?"

"Lucas Jamies. But I think while you do that, I'm going to go to the morgue."

"Do you really need to now?" I asked, a little frustrated.

She shot a composed glare at me. Everything she did was composed. "Not just for that, you idiot, I want to see if they have any traces of ectoplasm on them, or see if the mortician found any. It's possible that the ghost is possessing them and tossing himself off the top of the stairs. If not, then it's probably possessing someone else and someone _is _doing some pushing."

My face reddened a little, realizing I had been a jerk. "You're right," I said. "Give me a call if you find anything."

"As always," she responded. She began getting ready for bed.

I tossed off my clothes and crawled under the covers. Before nodding off, I managed to mutter a bleary "I'm sorry" in the general direction of Kate.

"It's alright," she smiled lightly at me.

The next morning, the both of us got ready in silence and prepared to leave. I packed an EMF meter and a pistol carrying a clip of salt rounds in my belt, and a fake bag of luggage to check into the hotel with. Salt is one of a few things ghosts particularly hate, and it's become an old hunter's trick to load bullets with rock salt for these types of occasions. Kate, arming herself with professional clothes and a fake badge drove me to the hotel and dropped me off at the front of the drive. She would go to the morgue separately then return to the hotel to come find me once she had talked to the mortician. Tires crunched on the gravel as I walked into the building. It was a pretty place, if a little small for a hotel.

"Good morning," intoned a droll voice from the end of the room. "May I interest you in a room for the night?" A tall man standing behind the counter looked expectantly at me with raised eyebrows.

"Yes please," I replied, "For two people, one night."

The man flipped a few pages in a ledger. "Might I ask for your name?"

"Carson. Carson Doyle." I answered. The man scribbled in a slot and turned to the peg stand of keys behind him.

"Your room is 406," he droned, palming me the key. "I trust you'll be safe, there have been too many accidents around here lately."

"Accidents?" I tried to look surprised, "what do you mean by that?"

"A few people seem to have taken a tumble lately down the stairs. The police were all in a tizzy as you might imagine, saying they were pushed, though they were weeks apart and the only people here were myself and the housekeeper, Mr. Jamies"

The name peaked my interest. "Thanks for the warning, Mr.…?"

"Paulson." I nodded and went to leave, but his arm lashed out and attached itself to my forearm. "Do watch out for Mr. Jamies, Mr. Doyle." He raised his eyebrows at me pointedly.

"Will do," I muttered, tearing my arm from his grasp. He lowered his arm and calmly began writing in the ledger again. I hurried away, more than a little bemused by his actions. He was awfully forthcoming with the information, I thought, more so than any normal person would be comfortable sharing when trying to keep a business afloat. I filed that information away and climbed the flights of stairs to the room on the fourth floor. On the way, I pulled out the EMF detector and raised the antenna. I waved it around as I walked and only received minimal readings. I got to the room and shut the door behind myself and set the false luggage I brought on the bed. I didn't think I'd be sleeping there—the mattress looked to be more bedbugs than actual bed. However, the EMF did spike when I entered the room. I waved it around and was disappointed to find that the source seemed to be the light switch, I guess the wiring was old.

At that moment, my phone buzzed. "Hello?"

"Peter."

"Hey Kate."

"So the bodies were completely clean, no ectoplasm."

"Well I'm afraid that I don't have much here either, the EMF was dead except for some faulty wiring. But get this, I suppose there is a Mr. Jamies that works here at the hotel."

"So a son. Or a grandson maybe at this point. Interesting. Maybe he knows something. You should talk to him, I'll be on my way in a few minutes."

Remembering the strange advice given to me by the ominous Mr. Paulson, I wasn't so eager to do that. "I'm not sure that's the best idea. The man at the front desk seemed to think it was prudent I stay away from him."

I could almost hear her roll her eyes as she replied "Fine, wait until I get there and we will both go talk to the scary man. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

She hung up and I was left to the silence of the suburbs. I spent a few minutes looking around the room, then decided to try to get another EMF reading. There was still some ground left to cover in the hotel, even if it wasn't that large. I flicked out the machine and walked long the hallways. I had just given up when I came across an older man, hunched over, staring out of the window. He heard my steps and looked at me over his shoulder. His eyes were forming the beginning of cataracts, but I didn't think that that was the only reason his eyes seemed empty. He turned away as if I was of no interest to him.

"The birds sing a song, a song, those birds, they sing" crooned the man. This must be Mr. Jamies. Now meeting him, I understood why Mr. Paulson wanted me away. The man was absolutely bonkers.

"Mr. Jamies?" I asked him, a little louder than normal.

He stopped in his crooning to the birds and turned to me again. "Yes, oh yes, oh yes I am, I am he and he is me."

If this fool continued talking like a court jester, I felt this might be a very short conversation. "Mr. Jamies, do you know anything about the dead men here lately? Do you know who pushed them down the stairs?"

The senile man just giggled and held a finger to his lips. At that moment, Kate came up the stairs and called out my name. "I found out why I was advised to stay away from Mr. Jamies here," I said in a low voice.

"This is him?" she asked.

"Yeah," I confirmed, "the man is bat shit crazy. Senile"

Her mouth twitched, and she turned to me, ignoring the man staring out of the window. "Well I found some interesting information. As it turns out, the current owner of the building, Edric Paulson, is planning on selling the business to its competitor, which could def—"

However that thought was to remain unfinished, as Jameis tensed up and flipped around to fully face us for the first time. "Sell? Sell?! SELL?!" His face turned red and his hands clenched into fists. "NO ONE GETS TO SELL MY HOTEL! IT'S MINE! MY FATHER BUILT IT! MINE MINE MINE MINE!"

Kate's eyes met mine for a second in shock before the man barreled into her at all the speed his body could muster. However, Kate was far stronger than he, and he simply glanced off of her steady stance and fell to the floor. The man continued ranting unintelligibly, and footsteps rushed up the stairs. The altitudinous Mr. Paulson emerged from the stairwell and proceeded to calm the gibberish spouting fool lying on the floor. Kate and I stood off to the side, awkwardly watching the proceedings.

After a few minutes, the senile Mr. Jameis calmed down, and Mr. Paulson sent him off on his own. The tall man stood up and looked down at the two of us. "I do deeply apologize for the behavior of Mr. Jameis. He has been awfully distraught since finding out that the building is slated to be sold. Frankly, we are only losing money here, and Mr. Jameis doesn't seem capable of understanding the gravity of that concept. Though I will say, you must have superb balance, if he did not push you off of the edge."

I was thunderstruck, but Kate spoke up first. "Do you mean to tell me that this lunatic was responsible for all these murders? And you haven't told the police anything?"

"Mr. Jameis is under my express protection, given to me by his father before he died 37 years ago. It would be unbecoming for me to sentence him in such a way."

"That's absolutely ridiculous!" I interjected, "That's compliance in murder!"

A cold glare from Mr. Paulson was followed by the statement "I simply do what I must in order to preserve my honor, and I hope that you will too."

"You'd be lucky if we don't turn you over to the authorities right now." Kate jabbed at him.

"Well I should consider myself very lucky indeed," he returned. "Good day."

"Smug bastard," I muttered, as he walked away. The two of us collected the few belongings at the hotel and returned to our actual hotel.

"Well this was an absolute bust," I exclaimed. "Almost a week wasted, for what? A crazy old man and his crazy caretaker. I thought I was onto some ghouls in northern Virginia, but I'm sure someone else has taken care of it now."

"Well it wasn't a complete waste," Kate said.

"Right, right, you still got to the morgue," I said, "But it's still frustrating knowing that we didn't do any good. You know. Killing things, hunting, saving lives!"

"Well, I'll call the police on that crazed old man tomorrow, save a few lives with that. For now I say we take the day off and enjoy Columbus. Do you remember that Italian restaurant we went to last time we were in this city? The time we got the lone vampire hiding in the night club?"

Before I could respond there was a knock at the door. Kate, who was a little closer, answered the knock to reveal a burly looking man who appeared to have just rolled out of the Goodwill donation bin. The man's eyes passed over Kate and landed on me. "Are you Peter?" the man practically bellowed with a hint of a southern drawl.

"I am." I stated it like a query.

The man pushed his way into the room and closed the door. "I'm Johnson," the man said, "and I'm working a case up around here, and called Josie to see if there were any other hunters in the area. She pegged you." Josephine Bragg was one of the kind of task masters of the hunters. They know everyone who is anyone, and they tend to have a stockroom of supplies and weapons to raise a small army or send one man to paradise. She was also more of a handful than you had hands, but she was good people. Useful if nothing else. He continued, "I caught wind of what looked like a typical haunting in some hotel near here, but that doesn't seem to be the case."

I started to get a little nervous. "Yeah, that's actually why we are here, turns out it's—"

"Good," he drawled, sitting down across from me, "then you know about the kitsune."

I froze, and saw the blood drain out of Kate's face. Not good. "A kitsune? Here? Are you sure it isn't something else? Kitsunes aren't exactly that common."

"Yessir," he replied, "I've hunted a few in my lifetime, and it's all there. They have these long claws that they stick in your head from behind the ear, take out part of the brain. I had a looksee, and the bodies all have a hole behind their ear, and are missing part of their brain. The pituitary gland, in fact."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kate piped up for the first time in this encounter. "Look, I'm sure that a kitsune is hard to handle on your own, but we are desperately needed elsewhere. There is a pack of ghouls in northern Virginia, terrorizing towns full of people."

Johnson didn't even spare Kate a glance. "Boy, get a muzzle on your missus, let the men do the talking."

I was flabbergasted, and once more, Kate got to the punch first. Except this time literally. She, rather lightly, for what I knew she could do, balled up her fist and slammed it into the side of his head. "Don't you dare talk to me like I'm some helpless fool who doesn't know her ass from her elbow! You're coming to us for help remember."

Rubbing his head, he retorted "No, I'm asking this boy for help. I'd ask you for help if I had a hard on I needed taken care of.

Now it was my turn to get to it first. I swept the legs of the chair out from under him and he sprawled on the floor with a crash. "Listen, we are a pair. You hunt with both of us or we don't hunt, you hear?"

Red faced and indignant, he rose from the floor. For a moment I had hoped that he would just walk out, but instead, he regained composure and said "Fine, but if she gets in the way, I swear you'll know what it's like to come to Jesus."

Damn. Now we'd have to find some time to sneak away. Johnson started walking over to the fridge and asked, "You got anything to drink around here?"

"NO!" came the shout from Kate across the room, but it was too late. The rugged man stood there in shock with the fridge open, absorbing information. I pulled out the gun from my belt loop and pointed it at him, but he was quicker, and slapped me with the butt of the pistol that seemed to suddenly appear in his hand. Through bleary eyes, I saw Kate jump at Johnson, but it was different Kate. This Kate had long, sharp claws, and the eyes of a fox…

And now, we return to the beginning. I shook my head free from Johnsons grip and spat out the remainder of whatever was in my mouth. It was red. Blood. In fact, I could smell it, and once I did, I really wished I hadn't spit it out. Instinctively, I lunged at it, but I didn't make it far.

There was a laugh from above me. I looked up through the harsh sunlight to see the burly man with a syringe in his hand half full with blood. "Human blood," he said, wiggling the syringe a little, "the last part of the transformation."

"Wh- what are you talking about?" I wheezed. I felt very weak. I was very hungry.

"Well see, your little bitch over there is a kitsune, which I'm sure you knew from the jars of pituitary glands in your fridge. And that means you've been consorting with monsters and helping her kill people. And we can't have that."

I got angry at that. "Kate is a good person! We grew up together—she became a hunter so she could have access to food without killing people! She has never harmed a soul!"

Johnson's eyes were stone cold. "Even if she hasn't, she will. She is a monster, and you've been keeping her alive all this time. You're just as much of a monster as she is. Well," he said with a smile, "you are now."

It finally dawned on me. "You turned me into a vamp?"

"Well I couldn't justify killing a human could I? But you were less than human even while you were. You are filth. And I am going to kill you both. Starting with your little bitch so you can watch what you tried to protect die like it should have in the first place." He turned away from me, toward a slumped figure in the opposite corner of the room, whose face was covered in a burlap sack. But I still recognized it as Kate.

"Kaaaate!" I screamed at her. She didn't move. Johnson took a long knife from its scabbard at his hip and began to polish it as he lumbered over to her spot. As soon as I saw that blade, the true gravity of the situation hit me, and it felt like I had been thumped in the stomach by a star boxer. But that fear also give me strength. And I, now a vampire, had more strength than ever before.

With a growl, I jumped to my feet. I felt fangs poke through my gums, and I could almost hear the blood rushing through Johnson's veins. I lunged at him, and barreled into his side. Surprised, he fell to the ground. He tried to raise the knife to defend himself, but I was faster than he was. He may as well have been moving in slow motion. I knocked the blade out of his hand and slammed his head into the floor, exposing his throat. He struggled, but I only laughed at his efforts. I was stronger, I was faster, I was superior. I sank my face down near his neck, and he started to whimper. I relished in his fear before finally locking my jaws on his neck and taking my first drink of live human blood. It was more thrilling and more fulfilling than anything I had ever tasted in my life. Eventually he stopped struggling, and his heartbeat slowed to a stop.

Finally finished, I stood up. I felt powerful there, like nothing could stop me. Johnson laid on the floor, his body sallow and pale from the lack of blood. I felt bad for him, truly. He couldn't have possibly known how helpful it's been having Kate around. And kitsune or not, she is my best friend. I guess we are a little more alike now than we were before. Turning away from him, I went to Kate and released her from her bonds.

She fell, limp, into my arms. But it was okay, I could hear her heartbeat from here. I carried her out of the room. It seemed that we were being kept in the basement of an abandoned home in the suburbs. A van was parked in the driveway. I braced myself and stepped out into the light. I almost screamed from the pain, and nearly dropped Kate. I stumbled to the van and hopped into the back, letting Kate down gently. I found a pair of sunglasses, and went to the front—luckily, the keys were in the ignition. Kate was the only one who knew how to hot wire a car. I drove out of the suburb and luckily found my way to a highway. After orienting myself, I managed to get back to the motel that our car and our belongings were, and Kate woke up when we were a few minutes from it.

I knew because her heartbeat picked up even before she groaned and rolled around in the back. "Kate, are you okay?"

"Fuck off" she mumbled. I laughed and kept driving. We returned to the motel and got out of the van. When we stepped into the parking lot, Kate gasped.

"Peter! Your skin is so red! Did he burn you? What happened? Where were we?"

"Let's get inside first," I said. I was suddenly very tired. The adrenaline and bloodlust was wearing off, and I felt like I needed a good long nap. We got inside to find the tumult of furniture still on the ground. "Nice to know housekeeping is vigilant," I muttered under my breath.

Kate closed the door. "So what happened?"

I sat down on the bed with a sigh. My eyelids were very heavy, but I started talking anyway. I told her that Johnson had dragged us to what must have been his base in the town, and while I was out gave me both vampire and human blood so he could kill me without a qualm. I also told her that I killed him and drank his blood, though I left out how triumphant it made me feel to sink my fangs into his neck.

Kate listened carefully, but shook her head after she was done listening. "That doesn't make sense. Why would he just have a vial of vampire blood with him?"

"I don't know!" I shouted. I was irritable. I was tired. "For all I know he has one stashed away in his van, and for all I care, he can shove it up his ass."

Kate's mouth formed a hard line. "No need to be so rude," she intoned.

"Well I can be as rude as I want, Kate, in case you haven't noticed, I'm a fucking monster now!" As soon as I said it, I wished I hadn't. Kate looked like I had slapped her. Though I suppose it was more like I shoved a dagger through her heart.

"Right," she said, "that must be horrible."

Ouch. "Look, Kate, I'm sorry. I'm irritable, and this is going to take time to get used to." I didn't want to think about that. I had become what I hunted. I had become the prey. And now I was stuck with it and immortality with which to ponder it.

"So what now?" Kate asked. I knew what she meant. What would I do now that I was a monster? What would I do now that the daylight hurt me and anyone I came in contact what would reek of a gourmet meal?

I steeled myself. If Kate could live for years as a monster and retain her humanity, I'd be damned if I couldn't. "Well first, I need sleep. Then, there's a group of ghouls in northern Virginia I think need taking care of."

Kate smiled widely. "I guess we'll just have to become a very unlikely monster hunting team."

I smiled back and closed my eyes. I guess we would.

To be Continued?


End file.
